User blog comment:Brigadier Barty/Red Tables/@comment-2246928-20141111003147

"Damson Tart, Birne?" ''Laurena held up a slice of the crimson-slashed tart upon a plate, offering it to the squirrel. "Ole Glendel's really outdone himself this time." ''She set it near him, raising herself slightly to glance over the wall before dropping back down, hunched, alongside the Warrior and the rest of the Abbeybeasts stationed on the Wall, above the gatehouse. Seeing nothing, the mouse sighed in frustration, squinting through the darkness as she checked the empty courtyard behind her. Her eyes glistened emerald in the torchlight as she narrowed them to slits.'' "You'd think the ferret would have bothered attacking by now."

''Upon the Southernmost Wall, Skipper Rorgan sat back against the smooth red sandstone, his javelin propped up against him. An otter clacked an empty sling against the wall, and the sound rang out throughout the darkness. Rorgan looked to her, frowning beneath his whiskers.'' "Bristlenose...Quit the noise, mate. Get o'er 'ere an' sit down." The otter shook her head, shifting restlessly as she looked away from him, and Rorgan groaned softly, tired of trying to reason with his niece. "Pass the Ale, Knifejaw."